


Blackbird

by ExpressAndAdmirable



Series: The Heroes of Light [16]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Final Fantasy I
Genre: Backstory, Bards Being Bards, Dancing, Dancing Lessons, Gen, Mentor/Protégé, Tiefling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 04:25:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13159242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExpressAndAdmirable/pseuds/ExpressAndAdmirable
Summary: Mourat teaches Aviva more useful bardic skills.





	Blackbird

**Author's Note:**

> Absolutely inspired by the dance sequence at the end of the new live-action 'Beauty and the Beast'.

“You want to try it, little one?”

Aviva scoffed and lifted her bow from the violin’s strings, stopping her music mid-melody. “I’m almost taller than you, you know.” She rocked forward on the stool as she let her boots slip from the windowsill to the floor. “Even you can tell that. You won’t be able to call me ‘little one’ much longer.” She was still weeks away from her twelfth birthday and had already surpassed five feet in height. According to her mother, she was going to be as tall as the sky one day, but she would settle for simply standing as tall as her father once stood.

Mourat laughed and nodded at his student’s jibe, his black spectacles glinting through a shaft of afternoon sunlight. “That’s true. I can hear your voice getting closer by the day. Soon I’ll be hollering upwards to get your attention. But you didn’t answer my question. Do you want to try it?”

“Court dancing? When am I ever going to be at court?” Mourat could not see Aviva’s raised eyebrow, but her tone more than conveyed the gesture.

“You never know where you might end up, little one. You may catch the ear of a noble patron, or you might be summoned to play at court once you make a name for yourself. A bard can’t set all their hopes on one art form; the more diverse you are in your offerings, the better you’ll be. And those who teach music are often asked to teach dance as well – as you’ve seen.” Aviva spent the majority of her free time in the shop and frequently saw Mourat’s other students arrive for their various lessons. Mourat had made a point to teach her the popular courtly melodies early in her training, and for the past year she had provided accompaniment while he taught the dances to his clients. They scowled at her presence, sometimes objected, but few saw it as enough reason to leave. Old blind Mourat was the best dance instructor in Corneria, and they knew it.

Aviva made sure to give the old man a good-natured grumble as she stood. “I never could resist a challenge. I think I’ve picked up a decent number of the movements just by watching, anyway. But who’s going to play the music if not me?”

“That’s what magic is for, little one. Not to worry. Shall we?” Mourat extended his hand and bowed in an exaggerated show of gentility, his ridiculous wizardlike robes billowing dramatically. With a giggle, Aviva accepted his offer, holding the tip of her tail and dipping into a deep curtsy. As she straightened, Mourat lifted their hands, sliding his downward so they crossed at the wrists. “You remember this one, yes? Can you do it start to finish?”

“Only one way to find out, maestro.”

As Mourat counted the steps, it turned out Aviva did indeed remember this one. It also turned out she rather enjoyed it. She would not have considered herself the most graceful of creatures, owing in no small part to her awkward height, but partnering with Mourat made her feel strangely bold. She stepped, clapped, crossed and twirled with an ease she had not expected, and by the end of the dance she was laughing with delight. Mourat grinned at the sound. “You’re a natural, my girl! As I knew you would be. Come, let’s try it with music.” He waved a hand before settling his arm in place for the opening pose; in response, a ghostly melody floated through the room, played by no-one. “Ready, and…”

When the music faded, Mourat walked Aviva through the steps of a more complicated dance. The Tiefling watched his feet first, then his hands, recalling the many times she had seen the movements rehearsed by teacher and student while she played. Once they had set that to music, he showed her another, usually meant for people dancing in sets of four. After that, a line dance just for the ladies of the court, followed by a similar one just for the gentlemen (a separation that seemed, to Aviva, to be incredibly silly). After that they ran through another, and another, the young Tiefling following the old Human in near-perfect sync. Each dance had a name and a history in addition to the steps, and Aviva absorbed the lessons voraciously. There was no doubt Mourat was the best of the best.

Laughing breathlessly, Aviva spun away from Mourat as the next dance ended. “I’ve been watching you teach these for so long, but I never knew they would be so much fun!”

“Fun, yes, but also important,” Mourat responded solemnly. “Dancing is music made flesh, little one. Dance and music are the world’s greatest lovers. Dance lets the music speak through you, move you, take you further than you would ever have gone alone. Like music, it allows us to express our hearts when words fail us. Do you understand?”

“I understand you’re philosophising again, old man.” Aviva’s tone was gentle, affectionate. She smiled. “Yes. I understand. Though I’m not sure how emotional those noble hearts are allowed to be. Their dances are as precise and controlled as those who dance them.”

Mourat nodded. “That is so. But, like music, there’s far more to dancing than what they do at court. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll show you how they dance in taverns.” There was mischief in his words, Aviva’s favourite thing to hear. “But for now, I believe it’s getting late, if I’m not mistaken.”

Aviva glanced at the window, realising how far the sun had shifted. “Oh! My mother will be missing me.” She retrieved her violin from the sill and placed it gently into its case. “I have to stay late at school tomorrow, but I’ll be in as soon as I can.”

“Alright, little one. Don’t forget to lock the front door when you leave, eh? And practice those steps when you get home!” Mourat coughed lightly. “There may be a test.”

“I would expect nothing less.” Placing a quick kiss on Mourat’s cheek, Aviva headed for the crowded front room of the shop, calling a quick “Goodnight!” over her shoulder. The front door opened and closed and Aviva’s key turned in the lock.

As if on cue, Mourat doubled over, his body wracked by a violent cough. He struggled to stand as it subsided. He was not a young man at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Title song by the Beatles.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr at @expressandadmirable for a proper table of contents for the Heroes campaign, commissioned character art, text-based roleplay snippets and more!


End file.
